The Roadtrip

3rd picture, a bit of sunburn.

 

 

Roadtrip rest stop. Crossing the great American desert. Listening to “The Beginner’s Mind” read by Peter Coyote… fulfilling a promise to a friend. Not sure I get much of it, but getting rid of “mind-weeds” does have a ring to it.

Stopped at a Love’s travel store, and inside, there was America. Like a Toys-R-Us for truckers. Naked lady mudflaps, pink plastic tow hitch testicles, gear shift shaped like a double-barrel shotgun. Over the speakers a country song is playing.

We stand up and salute when we see Old Glory flying

And there’s shelves of food in colorful packages. Corn nuts, beef jerky packet with a built-in cup of ranch dipping sauce, and… some kind of chromatic blob. That last one catches my eye. It looks like a package of fake vomit. On closer inspection, it’s a “Gummi Mexican Dinner”–a plastic tray with gummi tortillas, gummi beans, gummi chili peppers, gummi chili con carne–which a child might arrange into a gummi burrito, I suppose.

The song blares on, and it’s some kind of war rant:

…the Statue of Liberty
Started shakin’ her fist

I consider buying the Mexican gummi dinner. I notice the gummi brand is licensed by a German company, and it’s manufactured in China. And hey, wasn’t the Statue of Liberty a gift from France? In America, we take it all, we are entitled to it all. The America song is reaching a climax:

And you’ll be sorry that you messed with
The U.S. of A.
‘Cause we’ll put a boot in your ass
It’s the American way

Must be a 9/11 thing. Celebrate and commemorate violence so we can justify our own. It’s the American way.

Speaking of America, I have a thousand miles left to drive. I buy something cold, say, a quart of orange juice to hold between my thighs as the sun shines hard through my windshield, and hope to reach the Sierras by nightfall.

Jonathan Lidbeck